


Do No Harm, Take No Shit

by thatgypsynerd



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Hale Fire, F/M, Good Peter Hale, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Park Ranger Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgypsynerd/pseuds/thatgypsynerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU- Stiles is a college student a Beacon Hills Community College and a barista at La Luna Cafe.<br/>Derek is a forest ranger at Beacon Hills Wildlife Reserve with his sister Laura.<br/>Stiles isn't aware of his magickal heritage, neither is Sheriff Stilinski. As the story goes, Stiles will learn the history of his mother's family.<br/>This is all set in college ages. People have jobs and partially established young adult lives. The Hale Fire happened, but later in Derek's Junior year. Laura was already an adult when it happened. Peter was burned in the fire, but not to the extreme to cause permanent damage. Peter took over as parent, but Laura became Alpha. No crazy Uncle Peter, so no one else besides the Hales are wolves yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cafe Oy Vey

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of what will hopefully be a nice long multi-chapter fic. This is my first ever published fic, so be gentle, but if you have constructive criticisms, they are welcome!  
> P.S. i have no clue what this will turn into yet, i just write as it comes to me. and i'm kind of slow.  
> P.P.S thank you to @oswinstilinski for being my patient editor

 

Stiles eyed the small line of empty plastic cups that sat on the counter, making note of the abbreviated coffee orders on the side. The Raspberry crème brulee frappucchino was really making a hit this month for the new Fall flavors. He noted to make it a comeback out of season.

           Erica shoved a cup in front of him that was labeled as latte, extra foam, four shots. Damn, someone was not a morning person.

           “You know I don’t do hot orders. The steamer hates me. Get Boyd or Isaac to do it?” Stiles made puppy dog eyes at her.

           “Isaac is on break, and Boyd is wiping tables. You know how to do it,” Erica rolled her eyes and made shooing motions at Stiles.

           “I cannot do the thing!” he called out loudly in distress, “BOYD, COME DO THE THING!”

         All Stiles got in response was awkward looks from the patrons and a grunt from the other side of tall coffee makers. Stiles scowled at the machine in front of him and started on the latte. The espresso was easy, but it was the milk steamer and frothing that evaded him. No one has ever asked for extra foam. The hell does someone need extra foam for? You’re already drinking coffee; just add whipped cream for cripe’s sake.

          The milk was finally turning frothy after some fiddling with the valve, and Stiles glanced up to see the most devastatingly handsome, tired and grumpy guy scowling at his iPhone by the pickup counter.  He had the collar popped on his leather jacket and his hair was messily spiked. He looked up from his phone and locked eyes with Stiles, who promptly jerked his hand enough to make the steamer explode hot milk all down his front.

           Stiles yelped, and grumpy bad boy scoffed. Stiles figured this monstrosity was _his_ order. Who else would have the exotic name of—he checked the cup—Derek?  This fucker right here.

           “You, _Derek_ , do not get your extra foam for distracting me from my work,” Stiles quickly poured the remaining milk into the cup of espresso, put the lid on, and brought it to the serving counter.

           “I didn't realize a latte was so difficult to make,” Derek raised an eyebrow.

           “Dude, they’re not. I’m just steamer challenged. And by the way, your coffee order is _lame_. Live a little! Heighten the café experience!” Stiles never understood bland coffee orders. There was so much you could _do_.

           “Well actually, the latte is my sister’s order. I drink mine black.” He glanced back at his phone, frowning again. Could this guy ever look happy?

           “That’s even lamer, man! I’m calling coffee intervention.” Pushing up his sleeves, and mentally queuing a line of questions.

           “Who are you, the coffee police?”

           “Well, my dad’s the sheriff,” Stiles remarked lightly, “but, I am the Macchiato _King_.” Derek snorted at this, but Stiles pressed on, “What’s your favorite season?”

           “Can I just take my coffee and go?” His eyebrows furrowed. Stiles noticed they looked like two furry black inch worms creeping together to battle it out. But they were adorable inchworms. This poor, unfortunate—but very, very attractive piece of sex-on-a-stick—soul who still drank his coffee black. To Stiles, blessing a couple shots of espresso with indulgent syrup flavors, cream, and pouring it over ice was like paying homage to the coffee gods. No wonder Derek had a perpetual inchworm battle on his face. The man clearly knew _nothing_ of the comfort a proper cup of coffee could bring.

           “STILES! Quit harassing the customer and finish the other orders!” Erica snapped.

           “Erica I’m in the middle of an important thing. I’m about to gain us another lifelong customer. Get Boyd back here. All he’s doing is chatting up all the hipster chickadees, in case you didn't notice,” At this, Stiles was no longer a concern.

           “Now,” Stiles turned back to Derek. “What’s your favorite season?”

           Derek’s inch worms were head-butting.

 

* * *

 

           Derek sat in his Camaro sipping his mystery macchiato that the barista (did his name tag say Stiles?) had given him _on the house._ Like, who even does that?  Making minimum wage as a college student—he assumed Stiles was enrolled in some sort of higher education because he held that lofty undergrad “I’m more cultured and nerdy than you” attitude—you can’t just afford to give away coffees on your paycheck just to enlighten people on “the magical and sultry world of coffee” as Stiles had called it.

           But he did have to hand it to the kid. This iced coffee was, dare he say it, the best iced coffee he had ever tasted. That was saying something, considering he hated cold coffee on the average day.  There was just the right amount of espresso/milk/syrup ratio and there were subtle hints of hazelnut and caramel with a background of dark chocolate to compliment the espresso. The drink was good enough to make him forget he was lacking his normal hot beverage on a chilly November morning. It was, in fact, magical. It reminded him of those delicious little Ferrero Roche chocolates that he used to get in his Christmas stocking every year as a child.

           Derek checked the clock on the dashboard. The digital numbers blinked a quarter till 6am. _Shit_. Laura was going to have his ass if he was late for shift changes at the Station. Taking one last sip of his heavenly drink, he put the Camaro in drive and pulled out of the parking lot of La Luna Café.

           As Derek sped down the forest highway, he thought of the coffee and of Stiles. There was an extra scent on the cup that was different, more than just coffee shop and human scents. It seemed familiar but he couldn't place it. Maybe it was just a lotion or something that was on the hands of the barista, but it made his nose itch. Derek tried to clear the scent from his mind by rolling down the windows to inhale the crisp pine and woody aromas. It helped the intensity a bit, but he couldn't escape it completely. Something just made it stick.

            He pulled up to the ranger station and got out of the car taking the drinks and his uniform shirt with him. Today felt like a good day. He had to get an update from Laura on their whelping she-wolf. She should have had her pups by now.

 

 


	2. Pups and Pack

Stiles finished his shift up at La Luna Cafe and ordered a green smoothie and chicken Caesar salad to bring his dad at the police station. The sheriff had a bad habit of munching on any Hostess snacks and doughnuts that the other officers would bring into the break room or get takeout from the local burger joint on lunch breaks. Stiles immediately started passing word around the station that he would have people’s necks if they enabled his dad’s bad eating after his heart attack scare when he was 17. He wouldn’t lose another parent. Not to something he could control.

He pulled up to the police station in his grey Jeep, the brakes whining just a bit as a reminder that it was time to go to the shop soon. Stiles made a mental note to lay off of the sporadic comic book shop trips this month.

Healthy goodies in hand, Stiles made his way into the station and to his dad’s office where he was chatting with Officer Parrish and Ranger Hale, passing an iPhone between them.

"So glad the breeding program has been a success, Laura,” Sheriff Stilinski squeezed her shoulder gently, smiling at the pictures on the screen.

“OH MY GOD WERE THE PUPPIES BORN???” Stiles sprinted the rest of the distance across the office to stare at Laura’s phone.

“Hi, Stiles,” Laura reached over and ruffled his hair, causing Stiles to frown slightly, “Just this morning. One male and four females from Star. We are hoping another of our females will go in heat within a couple months so she can have a litter in the spring.”

Stiles set the food down on the desk and snatched the phone away from his dad, “HOW IS THIS MUCH CUTE EVEN POSSIBLE?”

“Star is our only wolf that has ever let people near her and the pups. Maybe you can visit the reserve sometime to meet them,” Laura gave him a wink and Stiles felt like he was just given the key to Adorbs City.

“Really? I would love to!” Stiles thought for a moment, “Could I bring my friend Scott? He interns under Dr. Deaton at Beacon Hills Vet. He loves puppies even more than I do.”

“Of course! I’ve heard lots about Scott from Dr. Deaton. As you know, he runs calls out to the reserve when it’s needed and he was monitoring Star’s pregnancy. I’ll phone your dad when there is a calm day at the station and you and Scott can come down,” Laura smiled at Stiles and then turned to the Sheriff, “Now for some more official business. We’ve accounted for all of our wild pack in Beacon Hills and none of the members have drifted outside of the reservation in the past month. Your reported animal attack victim is most likely that of a bear.”

Sheriff Stilinski furrowed his brow, “That’s good news. I would hate for your breeding program to be thrown off course. You’re family has worked so hard for this.Thanks for the updates.”

“No problem, Sheriff.” Laura’s phone chirped and she glanced at the screen. “Looks like I have to be heading out. My own pup needs some tending to. Gotta go pick her up from preschool. By the way, Stiles, thanks for the coffee this morning. My brother said it was one of the best mocha-things he’s ever had! I’ll have you know he’s a tough critic, so the fact that he even mentioned it is a big deal.”

“Your brother?” Stiles was pleased and curious. He had forgotten Laura had a brother.

“Ah, yes. My little bro moved back into town last week and I set him up with a position at the station. You couldn’t have missed him. Tall, dark, and grumpy, goes by the name of Derek Hale?”

 _Did he remember..._ That Abercrombie and Fitch model with the heart-stopping glower and cute eyebrows? He couldn’t forget him! And to find out he already has an inside with his family!

“He is your brother? How is Mr. Grump related to a ray of sunshine like you?”

Laura chuckled, “Well he’s been away from home for a few years, trying to deal with the fallout of the fire,” her face grew solemn at the memory. “He took it a bit harder…but the past is the past right? We have to move forward. Mom and dad would have wanted me to keep an eye on him. What’s life without your pack, right?”

He thought it was adorable how Laura was so immersed in her work that she used wolf terms for everyday life. He admired her passion for restoring the wild wolf population. “Well, you better go grab your pup! Tell Derek he can come by anytime so I can blow his mind!--With coffee, I mean!” His ears turned red. Laura smirked and waved her goodbyes.

Now Stiles remembered. Beacon Hills had shown it’s community spirit when news of the Hale fire had spread through town, everyone pitching in to help. At the time, he had just begun an obsession with baking. Being Stiles, he went crazy and made five dozen strawberry filled chocolate ganache cupcakes to bring to the police station for the crew working on the Hale’s case, as well as an extra dozen for Laura, Derek, and their uncle, the only survivors of the fire. Stiles and seen them in and out of the station that entire week making statements and filing reports. He couldn’t stand to see them so sad. Knowing it wouldn’t be much help, he had hoped the offering of cupcakes at least would tell them people cared. Then, Derek had been much younger, only 16, and definitely _not_ the piece of sexy that he was today. Puberty did him _well_.

“Ground control to Major Tom?” The sheriff waved a hand in front of Stiles’ face. “You’re drooling.”

“Huh---Wha?” Stiles wiped his mouth with a sleeve as he came back to reality. “Sorry. Okay, got your green smoothie made with kale and a chicken Caesar salad.”

“My favorite,” his dad eyed the food with disdain. “Will you ever let me have cheat days?”

“Only on holidays and birthdays. I’m not evil, you know.” Stiles made pouty lips, “Besides, That potato soup I made last week? Not potatoes, and you never noticed.”

His dad gasped and clutched his heart, “Traitor! You lie!”

“Cauliflower,” Stiles made a ‘mic drop’ gesture, turned, and walked out of the station, “See ya Daddy-o. Gotta catch my evening classes.”

He was headed to his World Mythology class. They were just finishing the section on Skin-walkers and Shifters and moving on to Vampires this week. Stiles highly enjoyed the class. Professor Argent made a great deal of pointing out cross-cultural connections in the similarities between myths and bringing a sense of clarity to some of the more convoluted ones that have been twisted about over the centuries.  Though, Stiles thought him a bit arrogant, using his own textbook that he wrote for the class from his research and charging an arm, a leg, and signing away his soul for the hardback edition.

Stiles hoped his shift at the cafe tomorrow morning would bring him another chance at chatting up Mr. Grumpy Gills. If he impressed him with his coffee, he was about to be seduced via confectioneries. It’s true what they say. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.


End file.
